Two voices fill this poem: the woman's and the speaker's. Her section is a jumble of contradictions. She says "Come closer" and then "Back up," asks for a hug right after "Stop," and follows warm compliments with apologies for cancelled plans and unreturned calls. Nothing she says is clearly a yes or a no.
The speaker's half is steadier and more openly emotional. He repeats her kind words back almost exactly, as if holding on to the nicest things she has said, and adds that he always calls her back. Then he lets his wishes show: her hand in his, holding her tightly, waking up beside her. The images are small and tender, which makes them feel sincere.
The mood is bittersweet and a little frustrating. The last lines, with lips "inches" apart that "never" touch, capture the whole situation. He is always nearly there, and the poem leaves him hoping without ever arriving.